Holy
by llivla
Summary: Season One. Religion is only as you create it, and life a bendable substance that often does not end with death. Usagi has a choice between three doors, because she is achild she can decide who to beome. also eventual but always reluctant UxM
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon. Also, even though this seems like an EVIL Mary Sue* fic, it is NOT, I guarantee this. Explanations will be further induced in Chapter Two, which is Serenity's point of view. There, I made a rhyme so the stupid people would remember! ^-^V  
  
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Mary Sue: The VILEST thing to ever be created on this planet. Mary Sue is the official name for made up character's introduced by fan fiction writers for the purpose of their story. This, usually, includes a pairing or, likewise, the entire plot and storyline depends on the made up character. I HATE THEM WITH A PASSION. They mess up what's happening in canon (the real story line, for you who are illiterate XD) and just messes everything up. I have not read a story with main Mary Sue's in it that has ever grasped my attention past the first paragraph. I just can't do it! :cringes at the overwhelming tide of Mary Sue's in existence:  
  
All right, I'm done ranting now. -_-;;;  
  
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Prologue  
  
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Veracity n., pl. -ties (ca. 1623) 1: a devotion to the truth : TRUTHFULNESS 2: The power of conveying or perceiving truth 3: Conformity with truth or fact of reality: ACCURACY 4: Something true  
-Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary: Tenth Edition  
  
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I stared at the ceiling, just looking at the tiny dots making up the rough, oddly moon-like surface of my ceiling. I couldn't help it, it was eerily hypnotic.  
  
My friend and I had been quiet for a while, after giggling about some hot jock or another from school. I munched some more on her separate plate of cookies, she said she wasn't hungry and I had skipped lunch to study for History.  
  
She stared at me from across the bed. "Um," she began, rearranging her legs Indian-style as she spoke, "There's something I really want to talk to you about. It's important."  
  
I turned on my side to see her better. "Yeah?" I asked while propping my head on my hand.  
  
"Yeah, have you ever had someone over, talked to them for hours, and they weren't even there to begin with?"  
  
"What?" I stared at her, incredulous. Then I laughed, think she was joking when I ran through the speech in my head.  
  
She looked like she was about to burst into tears.  
  
I stopped laughing and my eyes grew wide.  
  
"I think I'm going crazy." She choked. "I talk and talk and talk, and these people laugh and everything! Then my mother or dad comes in and demand who I'm talking to. And my 'friends' aren't even there anymore--the room is empty!"  
  
I stare at her, utterly dumbstruck. "Oh," was all that I could think to say.  
  
"They were never there to begin with," she said bitterly. "Never." Then she stared at me, her eyes suddenly capturing a strange glint of depression that I had never seen before. "Are you real?" She whimpered, like an animal hit too many times. "You might not be real. This might all be another mistake, another 'loss of reality.' And I would not even know it."  
  
I took her hand in mine. "I am real." I said resolutely. "Feel?" T he warmth of her skin touched mine, and I held it, hoping against hope she would believe me.  
  
She smiled at me. "Yes," she said, "I feel." She closed her eyes to me, and smiled wider in thanks. "I know, at least right now...that I am not crazy now."  
  
The door opened. I looked to find my mom standing in the doorway, holding a recent basket of clean clothes for me. She frowned and looked around the room. "Who are you talking to?" She asked.  
  
End.  
  
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I've been having...weird thoughts.  
  
Good thing Raye isn't here to comment. I think she hates me or something.  
  
Seriously though, lately these odd contraptions of thoughts are swirling around in my head.  
  
Thoughts that aren't even mine. At least, I think they are not.  
  
There is no one here.  
  
Nobody.  
  
They couldn't be mine, I don't think deep.  
  
Another reason to doubt they are mine is because they are violent. Dreams of my 'enemies' mutated beyond recognition flash across.  
  
Have you ever thought it possible you are not alone inside yourself? You probably thinking, stupid girl, and I admit it, I am stupid, none denying that.  
  
Oh God, there it was again. Very soft, almost a whisper. But still there. It said: "I deny it."  
  
But there's no one here. Just me, and I'm sitting here alone in my room contemplating these absurd thoughts when I should be doing my trig homework.  
  
Math is evil. Spawn. Of Evil. That's what killed that Jesus guy. Math.  
  
There it was again! A chuckle, light and dark at the same time, it's masculine yet so undeniably feminine I am at loss for who it is.  
  
Luna doesn't hear anything. That paranoid fur ball is curled up beside me until the slightest noise drives her to a spasm frenzy.  
  
I have to get her some Ritalin.  
  
That isn't the point of this whole thing though.  
  
It's when I change into Sailor Moon, the Champion.  
  
I hate it. I hate everything to do with this 'job.' Not because of lack of social life as I tell Luna, but there's something screwy and wrong with that locket. I don't even know why I wear it. Wait, yes I do, I am the Champion of Justice.  
  
Or am I? Sometimes when I fight I get this flash, like it's suddenly a movie that I recorded and I see myself fighting the current monster.  
  
And it only happens when I'm in really deep crap. Bad use of language I know, but that's the way I describe it.  
  
At least, that's how it went at first. Nowadays, its getting more frequent. The more monsters I fight, the more movies I see. And the movie keeps getting longer and longer. Maybe I should bring popcorn sometime...Mmm...butter...  
  
Bad Serena! Stay on topic you idiotic bunny! No wonder you get such low grades! Arg.  
  
It's scary, yet so blissfully comforting.  
  
It's like, I dunno, like someone is stepping in and fighting for me.  
  
And I don't mind, nope not at all. Cos as long as this happens, I can get away from it and pretend it IS a movie and not real, never real. It's all just fake movie glitter, like in that movie The Sixth Sense.  
  
Or when I see that pretty lady in my dreams...I see her and I'm floating...but I can never remember her name or what she wants, but she calls for someone I don't remember either.  
  
And I need that, too. I need the security I feel when this being takes over and I am in the safest of hands and nothing bad will ever happen as long as I sit there and watch this movie.  
  
Now that I think about it, I believe it is a she doing all of this. Who else could stand to fight in a sailor uniform? Stupid me.  
  
I think I caught a glimpse of her, that one time when I was dreaming of cupcakes. It was so weird, one minute I'm dreaming I'm eating with Andrew, and the next it's all dark. And there was this incredible pulling, so unbelievably painful and heartrending all I could do was clutch my head and scream like the child I am. I kept crying and sobbing, praying, doing anything that would cause this Headache of the Century to just stop!  
  
When it did stop, I still held my position, now in fetal mode on the 'ground.' My dream had lost all aspects of the lovely fantasy it earlier had. Now, it became just a swirling funnel of black and deep, dark purple. I continued to sob and cry and rock myself when I heard something like a door. I turned around to face the sound, expecting this to get worse.  
  
And I heard a "Serena, Serena!" My mother, shaking me to wake up.  
  
But just before I resurfaced to the 'real world', I saw her. At least, I think I did. Maybe it was a mirror; its place in my dream would have most certainly made more sense in that void than this. But, her slim hand, clasped on the doorway I had not seen before, her eyes untamed, angry, wild, yet still so concerned and frightful for me.  
  
She was dressed in the senshi uniform.  
  
Mine.  
  
The emblems of the moon, the tiara, the boots, there were all where mine were.  
  
Except they were black, stark black, like her eyes: cobalt-gray eyes. I hadn't known eyes to be two colors until I saw her, but there it was, two distinct colors that should be one. The top half gray, the bottom, that deep blue of intensity that psycho-girl-stalker-name-caller-insert beep here Darien has.  
  
Intelligence, strength, all that I want but it is all so beyond my weak, clumsy reach.  
  
Her lithe form somehow reached out to me, as if her very existence longed for me not to go, but to stay so I could tell her everything. Because I felt like I knew her in such a way that I could do just that, tell her my secrets, my dreams and passions, tell her what I long to be and could she help me? Could she sit and listen to a pathetic, dense child rant about the injustice of the world and not loose patience like everyone else seems to do with me?  
  
In that instant, it seemed she would.  
  
But in that same instant, it seemed she wouldn't, and bite/kill/maim/SOMETHING me instead.  
  
I know her. Somewhere, she just sticks out at me, and I am at a loss as to where to start thinking.  
  
Where?  
  
She laughed again. Dear me, but I do believe she thinks this is funny.  
  
Silly Bunny, thinking is for geniuses.  
  
Idiot, that's me. That's what I am.  
  
Oh my God.  
  
Chill it Serena, you dumb blond! There's no one in this room except for you and Luna. Screw that, it's just you since Luna's most likely dreaming of endless tuna seas again. Heh, heh, Luna and tuna...that rhymes...  
  
You are alone.  
  
You are!  
  
But I'd swear to any religion, something just touched me. My right shoulder, I even saw the creases in the fabric of my long-sleeved white blouse.  
  
Crazy, just ate one too many blue-berry muffins...yes.  
  
There's no one here.  
  
There is no one in this room except me and my talking cat.  
  
There's no one sitting next to me. There are no creases on my shoulders.  
  
There's no midnight black hair long as mine, mixing with blond as she leans over.  
  
There's no words being whispered so softly and drowsy with sleep, murmuring tenderly how much I underestimate myself.  
  
There's nobody, let alone no _body_ that I lay against, also soft and warm, as I cry for my lost sanity.  
  
It isn't fair, why should I have the fate of the universe on my shoulders? Please God, I'm only fourteen! I can't handle the weight of my own lunchbag—let along the whole world!  
  
Why was it me? Why was I so special?  
  
Why...?  
  
There's no one.  
  
There's not.  
  
But I like her voice...  
  
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/Storms were, by definition, an atmospheric disturbance; one, which is manifested with strong or violent outbursts. Its tempest is fierce, hot scalding coals of lava, dark; dry or wet static electricity zipping across the sky; freezing ice, bitter beautiful dangerous icy snow; banging loud ripping tearing funnels and cracks. If all was true, then Sailor Moon was in a storm.  
  
Slanted, cobalt eyes swept across the plains with intensity and eagle swiftness, calculating.  
  
Men. Hundreds of them, their bodies packed tightly together, the stench of split Millennium blood clinging like a parasite. The sweat dripped down their backs, she could smell it. Their pupils were dilated with a sorcerer's toxins, she could see it. They were hunched, the commanders ready. She felt all their eyes upon her lithe body, the staff in her hand, and the fangs revealed through her smile.  
  
It was seven hundred to one. Her ears picked up the dark, liquid substance folding and winding through the death soldiers like a curtain of miasma. Metallica.  
  
Her smile widened, her eyes danced in the firelight of their torches. She floated not two inches above the ground, not thirty paces away from the front lines of Beryl's militia.  
  
So many.  
  
The twitch of a captain finger.  
  
Her eyes narrowed further.  
  
"CHARGE!" The commander roared.  
  
And so it had begun./  
  
But in a way it had also ended and expanded once more...  
  
I'm growing, stupidly, melancholy now. Damn it. I halt the memory, and the seen vanishes, the men and battle fade and all that remains in front of me is a constantly circuitous large, black, two-dimensional rectangle that oddly resembles a playing card. I give this shape a gentle push a centimeter away from it, and it glides away into the wall, shrinking and bending some more as it does so. Then it becomes a part of me again, and there's a dull throb in the back of my cranium as the memory settles once more in the recesses of my mind.  
  
Those young eyes...like windows: too trusting and innocent. That'll get her killed one day...shame. She could have had potential to be something greater than what the lowly common holds of this era of humanity could possibly give.  
  
Not like _her_.  
  
It's not very mature to hold a grudge. Anger and hate and mistrust: the big 'no no's' of earning the title of Sailor Moon.  
  
But I hardly care anymore. I'm dead anyway.  
  
Or at least as dead as I'm going to get any time soon at any rate. It's her fault all this is happening anyway. Selfish, greedy bitch. Just _couldn't_ die without her beloved!  
  
But... this one...Serena...she is different. Reincarnation my ass, that cat doesn't know what she's talking about.  
  
I like her, but I think she's frightened of me. Heh, not the first time that has happened. In my time of the Silver Millennium, I was the ruler of all the scouts, I held infinite power; surpassed only by the Queen herself. I devoted my life to her, with her wisdom-filled orbs and hair white like snow and red like roses. She, who wept pearls at weddings and laughed at her own sorrow like china bells.  
  
My queen was a Weaver, always interlacing the fabrics of time with loving devotion as she repaired them continually.  
  
I would have given my life to her a million times, instead of just that one I'd had. Or do I still have it? I can exist, I may need this child to do so, but I am here.  
  
Poor Queen Serenity, to give and give, only to be destroyed in the end. I remember serving her with all the potential my pathetic body could give this lovely goddess. Wise like wind, and strong like the Earth she watched over so carefully.  
  
I serve the Queen still.  
  
But never that princess.  
  
Never that one.  
  
No.  
  
Never.  
  
I vowed my loyalty to champions, to those worthy of my loyalty and, ergo, my guardianship. That _thing_ is anything _but_ worthy.  
  
And the ironic twist is that this child and all the once-princesses are all searching for her with a desperation that almost knocks me over. The guardian of the brat, Luna, is beginning to remember. Artemis is bound to soon tell her his suspicions that Serena (the child) is the Princess Serenity.  
  
The heir to the Moon Kingdom.  
  
Bullshit.  
  
If I were the type of person to perform such a childish antic, I would be rolling on the floor laughing at this moronic, thick thought.  
  
The child is too different, they know that—can't they just open their eyes? No, and it's because they're too brain-washed with vague images that they just assume this princess is perfect and pure and will rule with the dignity of her Mother.  
  
Again, I would laugh.  
  
I knew that princess better than them all, I saw her birth. I saw her grow. I saw her as she sent me to my death, just as she will send this new child to her death.  
  
The most hilarious thing is that _they_—those scouts and guardian cats—have absolutely no idea. Either that, or Artemis doesn't care and purposely withheld this information from Luna.  
  
Unworthy, she is unworthy of the title of the heir. The _child_, at the bare age of fourteen, is more worthy than she is.  
  
Oh, my, I do declare that that was my first compliment.  
  
...But perhaps it is because she deserves it.  
  
Poor thing, crying for your sanity.  
  
That idiotic, feline servant, what was she thinking, sending such young life into death and battle every night? Too young much too young, the queen herself regretting making me the best, the best that there ever was; so great that even Beryl thought me a difficult obstacle, and had to wipe out my existence with a hundred men and a tidal wave of Metallica's essence.  
  
You poor, little lost girl. How can I not fight your battles when the thought of them sends you to a traumatic overload? How can I not shove you aside, your cerulean orbs sliding shut with a simple smile of peace as you fly by me to your Soul. How can I not resurrect them in my own Soul, and tear them apart far more slowly than you could ever stand to do?  
  
But I didn't mean for you to see it. Have I grown lazy in my secret realm of torture? I should have felt that girl coming, lost and confused and hurt.  
  
Then there's the screaming at night.  
  
Stupid princess, always thinking of yourself. It's just _not_ going out the way you had imagined it, no? 'Endymion, we'll transcend time...and together, we'll find happiness.'  
  
Bull shit. You worthless bitch, you only thought of how this would work for you. Your husband died fighting, the gates of Eden Ocean open to his courage and powerful, obedient heart. You snatched him from it, though he does not remember, and tied him to a traumatized, lonely man. You are disturbed by _this_ girl's clumsiness, shocked by her screams at _YOUR_ man, per say. You are disgusted by the girl's whimsical, ditzy, arrogant attitude towards your knight. The way she shouts curses towards his existence, the obscene hand gestures exchanged.  
  
Not how you pictured it is it?  
  
I feel you clawing at her surface, and I see the girl stumble as you fight for control. I wrench you back. She falls, she cries, and your knight helps her up.  
  
I slapped you square in the jaw never to do that again.  
  
You were defiant, your chin raised in that permanent, holier-than-thou height and daring me to say that again. You whine how he is your love; how you must be with him in order to live. How life, without him, is pointless.  
  
"Well then allow me to spell it out for you, honey," I had purred. "If you aren't alive without his 'everlasting love-'"  
  
"He does love me!" You had whined. "He'd never forget me!"  
  
"Shut up," I had growled. "If you aren't alive without his love then please _explain_ to me, oh Divine Bitch, your current situation."  
  
You had glared at me then, your eyes brimming with tears (Oh my God, I am _so_ sorry), and stormed off in a whirl of the white wedding dress you never transform from: The dress in which you haunt the girl and the young man. You call to him to set you free when you are only damning him to a painful death. Foolish, stupid girl, you cling to a pampered illusion that love conquers all.  
  
You cling to a pampered illusion that love can transcend time, and last forever with promises of sparkling stars and soft feathers.  
  
As I had charged into Usagi's Soul and stared in horror at the dark swirling tempests of the nightmare you cursed upon her, I recall the simple fact of life that triggers all insanity at pure realization:  
  
It doesn't.  
  
**********  
  
She had been born to an ethereal moon goddess of silver spun hair, and to a god of power, who had wanted beauty. The god and goddess had champagne roses, rose champagnes, perfumes, jewels, twinkling stars, and immortal echoes, but they couldn't have a child. And when it did happen she was paler than they had dreamed for but even more lavishly luminous. Painters and sculptors were beckoned from the very beginning.  
  
During those times, she tried only to remember the silk pillows and ivory chisels, feather boas and snow fox pelts, the doves and faeries instead of the cold stone floor and the traveling eyes of the artist. Every day had been a swirling mist of flowers. She'd been bathed with oils, perfumes of pines and ocean, bathed with silks and silver lilies and jeweled magnolia with pretty, shiny, gold things. Her skin soon smelled permanently of innocence and incense, it was treasured and lovingly captive in an ageless heaven. The mirrors, those mirrors had been everywhere so not a bit of beauty was missed wherever she went. Those mirrors blurred together to her so she could not see her own image. Bowls were also placed accordingly, fresh gardenias and bubbling mineral water if her graceful goddess hands should—God forbid—be tainted in their slim elegance.  
  
That time, that age of my dancing feet never touching the ground...is gone. Dead, just as I am.  
  
Was it a curse than I had been born beautiful? Am I to be blamed for perfection? The length of the lash, the full plush of lip on such a young face? Was it that which that caused Endymion to fall like Lucifer, as a sailor and dive into the siren's arms and breast? Was it that what made the Blood Woman's face split into jealousy and hell as she gestured for me to come to stab the same needle as her beloved?  
  
Because he was my beloved. He still is.  
  
He is!  
  
But because this body is no longer my own, I allow the wench-child to allow the forbidden life upon my soft eyes once more. She gets up sometimes, to battle those dreadful youmas on white villas. And I see him.  
  
I remember the warm swirls of emotions, the memory of a girl inside a soft fairy tale. Perhaps...there _had_ been a curse? Inevitable it seems that I should prick my heart (not my finger) with the death needle. Does the wench-child feel this way—this ecstasy of pure honeyed light in those mortal veins, like being infused with the soul I myself had lost? To me, this is all there ever is; this is all that ever could be.  
  
The flood that night like an ogre's tears...  
  
This is me, I think often. Cursed, forever cursed. Sleeping. Tear- flooded and fever scorched, quaking and bloodied with nightmares and perfection.  
  
I went down to Earth, to its towns and cities with its lights like radioactive phosphorescence, wandering through galleries of beauty where the high-priced art on the moist canvas was too high for the lush, _FAKE_ moon garden. The air so fresh and acrid from constant human contraption and change like a sweet perfume to me that star beams couldn't possibly give.  
  
'My sleeping beauty,' he'd whispered as her dress fell to the floor and the breeze came in wisps through the window, 'I love you this way.'  
  
I was wearing the virgin white, beads and glittering jewels...a dress of Earth Snow and angel goddesses, my hair in my face. Hipbones haunting through silk and flesh.  
  
'You have angel eyes.' Angel eyes. Once I closed those heavy, plush lashes in fear of seeing too much of him and drowning but drowning already. He saw me as an angel, goddess, enchantress, priestess. He saw me at castle ruins, in water ponds, rainbow caverns, and the peeling, mournful sands of deserts.  
  
'It's like you're from nowhere...' He'd whispered in my ear. 'I love it, somehow. It's like you exist only inside my head.' He whispered other things, too: Ageless, elegant, echo, flower, timeless, from where did you come from?  
  
Where had I come from? I'd wondered. Where had any of our kind come from?  
  
I exhaled softly at his touch.  
  
Maybe Endymion was right. Maybe I was all in his head. But that was all right, as long he was mine and I was his—  
  
"It is no longer so, now." I whispered. I licked my dry lips in fret.  
  
Even dead and dry, they are smooth...soft...velvet.  
  
Now Endymion could not see me, not now. Now, as he strode along the common streets of Tokyo, he saw a bubbling, oblivious, clumsy child tripping every few seconds, wolfing down sundaes, and playing silly video games.  
  
And, still, he lowers himself to her level, and give her his attention!  
  
But she is not grateful. She hates him.  
  
Hates. She. Hates. My. Endymion.  
  
And that brazen brash moon guardian wonders at my tears. They fall down my face now, and make a noting ring before the liquid transforms into smooth moon white: pearls. Pearls of memories, of aches and longings—I had died far too early.  
  
Which is why I am here now, watching her as she stares lazily at workbooks of complicated numbers she doesn't care for, legs folded 'Indian Style' as she taps her pen.  
  
She doesn't deserve him! My prince, _mine_—the one who _vowed_ his life to _me_!  
  
She glanced up from her work. Her eyes widened and she quickly crawled out and ogled at me. Those twin buns of hair messed from scratching in thought, frustration, distraction, and the day's wear of tangles. It really wasn't like mine, neat soft silver spun and glittering with pearls and diamonds.  
  
Locking and soundproofing her room by my own ancient wills, I nodded. It would be better if she wasn't kicking and screaming as I did what I was about to do.  
  
I came close to her, and her shoulders scrunched together nervously. How simple a girl...I lifted a hand to touch her cheek.  
  
"I thought I'd forgotten you." She murmured, staring up at me.  
  
"Forgotten?" I paused in my enchantment, my curiosity pecked for a moment at the supposed 'new me.'  
  
"Yeah," she sleepily stared down into the darkness. "I used to see you all the time..." Her eyes met mine; they really were a pretty blue, like a lighter shade of Endymion's. "Always so pretty and gentle-like. I would see you when I secretly tried on my mother's dresses. I would see you in the mirror." She blinked, her alertness failing in vain at my spell ebbing at her soul and energy as she tried to concentrate on my face. "Something else too, you remind me of someone else."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Because of your eyes right now." Yawn. "What happened?"  
  
"I am cursed."  
  
"Cursed?" She attempts to widen her eyes in astonishment. She pulls away from me for a bit, and I see her for the first time fully. This girl, she acts like such a child. But now, as I look at the robe she's pulling tighter around up her heavy, satiny, becoming breasts, I see that she is afraid.  
  
/Never grow up Never grow u~p! Not me!/  
  
The childish lyrics of a favorite childhood movie from her past greet us both, the lyrics echoing throughout our minds. And, for a moment, I understand her. Those baby blue eyes connect to me as well, and she whispers what I almost didn't hear: Not cursed.  
  
Blessed, she says. "Your mother was crying because you were blessed. She loved you and didn't want to let you go."  
  
There's silence.  
  
I stare at her, her eyes suddenly mirrors reflecting a child of ten, picking 'wildflowers' of the moon and faeries fluttering in their colorful lights every so often—an artist and a sculptor always present in some corner of the garden. The child, naive and blissfully happy, was oblivious also to the goddess distracted from the political meeting with Jupiter, and instead watching her from the northern balcony. I shook my head, the magic she did not know she possessed splintering. I heard the cracks in the fabric of my memories aching and bending, adjusting to this freshly ripped page of my own story banished.  
  
Then, I remember why I summoned myself to Serena. "Sleep."  
  
Then I possessed her.  
  
Before she could scream I tapped her chest, rendering her soul cancelled, and dug my nails into her back. My fingers disappeared under her soul flesh, the body still recognizing me as owner. I dug past its confusion at the doubling of owners and pressed harder.  
  
Or would have.  
  
"Get OFF her you fuck!" the voice screamed, like the soul I no longer have. This young woman had long black hair with pale skin and black—no!—_ebony_ eyes.  
  
I stared at her, furious. "Can't you see my pain?" I asked her, softly...so sad, so sad why was I cursed to look and no longer touch? How could I possibly restrain myself from my beloved?  
  
How could I want to? My hands did not extract from the sleeping body.  
  
"Get out of the corridor." She hissed. She really was quite beautiful, in that raging tempest way. Moths burned to get too close to such beauty...Her fangs glistened in the ritual light.  
  
I blinked slowly.  
  
At my dismal silence, the deceased senshi let out a guttural growl.  
  
I jumped in response. How barbaric! "Please understand," I said softly, but my grip loosened from the empty golden child in fear. Her robe loosened a bit, and I saw she was wearing her brother's old t-shirt, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, and there were a few freckles on the bridge of her young button nose.  
  
Fire...and Ice she was with those glittering eyes of deepest hell ice-fire, clenched fists white as snow, and energy of hot electricity. I shuddered.  
  
We stared at each other for a long moment.  
  
"I have no ties to you," she snarled. Before I could blink again she was in front of me. I cried out in pain as she tore her talons into my skin and ripped my hands out from the girl's body and clutched it to her chest.  
  
Serena's eyes opened once, but they were drained from my attempt at possession and rolled back a moment later.  
  
The dark soldier swore, and held her tighter—and glared at me.  
  
"Leave."  
  
I stared back. "No." My shoulders straightened, my head held high, and I stared back at Death. The emptiness inside me grew, my insides churning at the look of pure hatred and desire to rip my soul but _there's nothing left_.  
  
There's nothing.  
  
I closed my eyes. Two perfect pearls, with seeing them I knew that they were each supple in size and flawlessness. Perfect in color, ideal in shape, they fell.  
  
There's nothing. There's nothing left for anyone to want. There's _nothing left_ for my Endymion to have. My throat burned from my inside pain.  
  
The opposing woman gave a laugh at my emptiness, she was a warrior after all and majestic warriors like her did not feel empty. But the knife words stopped, and I heard her carry the child back...back so she could wake up and eat breathe laugh cry play talk _kiss_ Endymion but she never would the stupid bitch! I clenched my fists at the unfairness of it all, and in shame at my quick, nasty pink tongue. The pearls clump at my feet, a small pile of them is growing and there is a steady /clink!/ as they drop to the endless, swirling vortex of the Corridor.  
  
/'You're...you're...you're going to be...okay,' he panted out above her, his own _blood_ on his face, that wild ebony mane of his sticking to his face with sweat. His eyes fought to stay open as she stared up at him through those long lashes, too shocked to say anything but stare.  
  
'You have to be...' He coughed once./  
  
God...only you know how I long to brush his face with my fingertips and feel him.  
  
/'You're mine,' she whispered in his ear. 'I'll find you again.'  
  
Slowly, he nodded. And then it was over.  
  
Beryl watched her.  
  
Metallica watched her.  
  
'I know.' His dead eyes seemed to say./  
  
'I'm doomed!' It is one of those phrases that I hear Serena groan often when faced with another detention.  
  
Distantly, Sailor Moon says vaguely that she won't remember a thing about tonight...among other things. I don't care enough to ask what those things are.  
  
She'd ruined my chanced to be with my prince. Again. My dead heart twists painfully and I turn on my heel, back to—  
  
My sleep? Am I still that sleeping vision of beauty to be wakened by my beloved...or will I rot away, forgotten and wiped out of existence at last for all eternity?  
  
Alone...God I hate this, this _loneliness._  
  
I am doomed. Doomed, forever! A slithering spirit, worthless to _his_ gaze!  
  
And he'll only see her.  
  
But...there had been...something before...  
  
I stared at my hands, transparent and...Dead. I hug myself, only to stop and freeze in alarm.  
  
The Usagi-girl smelled, though faintly, of lilac incense.  
  
**********  
  
REMEMBER: Contrary to seeming appearance, this fic DOES NOT HAVE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. :eats MS...again: 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon in any way, shape, or form.

* * *

Reviewers: Thank you so much for your wonderful compliments! These really fuel a writer's work you know, so what you say does matter to me (who has low self-esteem --) a whole lot!

Muse: I. Hate. You.

::dies from hazardous low-confidence block::

* * *

I woke up this morning a headache.

Not just any headache—no, that would be way too good for me: Serena Tsukino, the Champion of Justice (insert butt-kicking pose here)! This very painful headache (FULL OF GREAT PAIN, mind you) has ruined my entire morning, meaning no breakfast or lunch, due to the fact that I ran too fast by my mother holding it out for me. Sob.

I am ignoring Luna's comment that I never have a full morning because of my willful determination to sleep in as late as possible. Come on! School does not teach us kids everything about life! If anything, they minimize our will for life—look at us! What other point is there to stick us all in a jail-like building for eight to nine hours (if you're like me and fight the system...and end up getting detention), grind our individuality down with equations and dates of old corpses and gas lights and GRAMMAR (that is what will kill Satan in the end—God will wield a million page workbook on Grammar and Satan will shrivel up screaming for his mother), then shove us in the stuffy, minimal-as-possible-space hallways of DOOM where we all must obey the laws of traffic—but never gravity, even Ami will nod her head at this sad fact—and trudge onward to the next hell, than to make us weak-willed tools for the government?!

Deep breath. Whew, thoughts flying by too fast again.

Back to subject- headache. It hurts; my sinuses give a giant pulse all together every twenty-eight seconds, and IT IS PAIN. Hence why I am not in a very happy mood; really, can you blame me?

So when I ran smack dab into Darien on my painful rush to school, my whapping him upside the head with my briefcase after he called me that DISGUSTING name was entirely justified—right? Oh well, he's three blocks behind me now...

THE GATE! Oh that looming gate of HELL. But I have to make it, I can't get detention today or Mom will KILL me—again! First Mom will kill me, and then Dad will come home from work, dig me up, and kill me again! Then Luna will scratch my abused, mangled corpse to bits...worthless, ungrateful cat...

Almost there! ALMOST THERE! Dear God: I think I might just make i-RING!

...It was a nice life...

After an extraneous, thoroughly unenlightening talk with my first period teacher, Hell Woman, I meekly nod my head and take my seat with my cheeks burning. This is from my throbbing sinuses, lack of energy, the wind in my face, my anger at being two milliseconds late, and now: my total embarrassment at Ms. Haruna's lecture (more of a one-sided shouting match) to me in front of the entire first period class. There are snickers all around the room—oh sugar, my blush is probably all the way down to my neck, it does that at times and I know that I am about as red as a tomato—and even Lita can't (won't) stop the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards.

I don't try to be late, really, I don't. It just happens. IT'S NORMAL.

Even when I bury my head in my books and build a wall with them, and Hell Woman has turned her back to the board with letters and variables I don't see the point of, the smoldering of my cheeks doesn't fade.

My headache pulses. Maybe I should name it? And how can anyone think with a headache? I wonder if when someone gets a headache, it blocks a part of your brain from thinking normally. Which side of the brain is my headache messing up? Which side is important? I heard somewhere, probably Ami, that one part of your brain is creative and the other part is...oh what's the word...oh yeah, "studious." My "dominant" side is so not that part, but I can't draw things worth dirt either. I wonder what side I am, or maybe my headache is right dab smack in between them...

"MISS TSIKUNO!"

Wince.

* * *

"—So, do you think that you can go to the mall tomorrow and help me pick out a dress for it?"

I turned and stared at Naru in the eye, evilly.

Naru pouted. "What's wrong?"

"I'll be dead."

She waved her hands at my depressing response. "Oh don't worry about, Usagi! You're mom...she'll burn out after the first ten..." Her face fell and she scrunched her nose. "...Well, thirty minutes."

"Thanks for your support." I bit sarcastically. Really, where was the fairness of life when you needed it? Oh well, at least Naru had been there to walk me home; if she hadn't had a detention for slapping Fujiko upside the head with a textbook—even though he was clearly the one performing sexual harassment!—I don't know what I would have done, rotting alone in that classroom with the three eyed nun. Seriously, the woman has one huge, ugly, hairy MOLE the size equal to the distance of Tokyo and Kyoto! Yuck! And the mole, seriously, I think it's alive, the way her saggy, old, wrinkled skin folds over other wrinkles and moles. It's an evil mole, maybe possessed by the Negaverse? Wouldn't be beneath them, you know, taking over moles. Maybe they (the moles everywhere) would all 'turn on' or something and attack the world before I got home. Mom wouldn't, couldn't, possibly ground me with the world being ending by giant, possessed moles, right?

Right?!

Even if I received that forty-five percent on my grammar quiz I had "studied" for last night????

Ugh, who am I kidding, life is too unfair. There will never be a mole invasion when it suits me, never.

It was then, in my warped mind of hairy moles and evil youmas, that fate then decided that should be I collided with my most FAVORITE person in the world. No, really, I LOVE THIS PERSON TO BITS.

Not.

So I fell to the hard, stone concrete and my hands fell first so that hurt like MOTHER and I felt my ankle twist in a way it shouldn't twist when it falls and that little knob there on your foot?—yeah that one on the outside—OW!

But while I was moaning in my intense state of agony—and my headache STILL refused to fade no matter how many times I drugged myself up with Advil—the workers of fickle fate decided I hadn't suffered enough today. OF COURSE NOT, WHEN SHOULDN'T IT BE ENOUGH?!

Because that favorite person I bumped, smashed actually, was Darien. And when I say this wretched, vile man's name, I can just see the fire and lightening effects with horses screaming and black and white flashes going on. It's that terrible. The man in person is even worse, shame; he could have passed in my book if he just said nothing and looked hot. Because he is, you know. Hot, I mean. He has the greatest hair, the coolest eyes, and nice full lips.

Shame he decides to use those lips for evil.

I swear, if Naru hadn't been a witness to the situation, I would have morphed into Moon and flung my tiara and laughed sadistically as his body was torn to pieces, but record it so I could later view it later again and again and again in delicious slow motion.

"Meatball head," the vile creature began, that cocky, self-righteous smirk I detest is all over his face, the one that I see so often. Really, did I kill somebody in my past life?! I must have at least been responsible for two-hundred deaths, because I can't see any other explanation for God punishing me like this!

The prick continued: "Why can't you watch where you're going, Odango Atama, and allow the innocent citizens of Tokyo save face and sleep without nightmares of you running them over for once?"

Gawd, I hate this man! Hate hate hate hate hate hate with that look he always has just for me that pisses me off to no end! After all, he—he—

Wait, what was I rambling about again? I...hate...him? No, no I don't...I couldn't...in fact, I think he's all right...just, just a little...Oh, are our faces getting closer...? Something's off about all of this but I don't remember why; what are those, I feel like something is bubbling up, trying to get out...is this a...feeling...what was he saying? I can't hear anything anymore, just his face...just the most handsome face that I've ever seen...yes, we are getter closer...!

Suddenly it's all gone, and, what the hell—? There was a great tug, almost as if someone (THAT JERK PROBABLY) were yanking on one of my buns. I let out a yelp of pain and fall backwards.

"...so I think you should be more careful, Odango Atama." He said, those eyes flashing. He's bent over, and he currently has his hand extended as if to help me up.

Yeah, right. Probably has one of those electric buzzers like in those sit-coms.

"WHAT THE HECK, YOU _JERK_!" I scream, batting his hand away and get up myself (just because I can't see the buzzer doesn't mean he doesn't have one, right?). "I WOULDN'T ACCEPT HELP FROM YOU IF YOU WERE THE LAST MAN ON EARTH!" Oh gawd, he's smirking that _smirk_ I detest so much because I let him get to me!

"Really?" He says, cocking an eyebrow. "Well, when I am the last man on Earth, and you are all that's left...well, quite frankly I'd shoot myself because I certainly wouldn't want to have to reproduce the planet with you, you know."

In-suff-er-a-ble DEMON. I shout something similar to a carnivorous animal's growl and Naru is just ogling at us both in shock, well, actually she's ogling at me because of that noise I just made...and...so...is...everyone on the street...oh shnickes...

A blush covers my face, basically because now I just processed his last sentence and I have noticed the blinking audience consisting of everyone on a three block radius. Oh shnickes...

He's laughing at me now, I know it. You see the thing about Darien is that he doesn't need to make a noise to prove his laughter. His eyes twinkle.

It makes me want to rip those eyes out with my bare hands.

"Um, Usagi-chan?" Naru asks softly.

"WHAT." I didn't mean to snarl, but she's currently interrupting a glaring match, and I refuse to lose. I've forgotten what our record is, no blinking for...two minutes? Then he usually interrupts the silence with some rude comment and we're off again before I realize I'm late...at...home...my eyes widen in horror as I've forgotten the meaning of this mission.

Naru starts to smile as she sees my facial expressions change rapidly from purple to red to stark white with panic.

"Odango, there's a trash can over there." Darien points somewhere behind me to illustrate his point; that smirk widening at my predicaments...oh the things that amuse this sick man...

I seethe inwardly, amazed at my own self-control for not foaming at the mouth. "Shut up," I tell him.

"Usa-chan, we have to go..." Naru is starting to grow embarrassed; I can see her ears turning pink from the crowd's attention. Oh bah, fine.

"Fare thee well, Odango Atama," he says softly, poetically even...must rip out vocal cords too.

HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE that man! "Tootles to you too Darien, you JERK." Naru is dragging me away, but I don't notice and continue to rant. "I HOPE YOU WALK OFF A CLIFF ONE DAY!"

"With you around," he calls happily, "I think I will just so I won't see you again. I would rather have the Catholic devil beat me with pitchforks until my skin curls than see you another day!"

How can he stay so damn cheerful?! With that kind smile he's wearing now, the crowds don't register his remarks. Shooting him a withering glare, I submit to Naru's constant pulling on my uniform sleeve (she's gonna stretch it out!), and consent to walk home.

I look behind me and there the creep still stands, watching me go. I stick out my tongue at him; childish I know, but I want to have the last word—er, gesture—for once.

His eyes only twinkle again.

Ohhhh how I long to rip them OUT!

* * *

"Just what is this?"

"...a piece of paper that doesn't necessarily have to determine my fate?"

"...I am calm, I am calm: I am on a tropical beach, there's gentle waves and the sun is warm and I am being served grapes...except there's a huge ugly seagull THAT KEEPS RUINING THE ENTIRE EXPERIENCE—USAGI TSIKUNO, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN?"

The girl in question continued to stare at her shoes, which were suddenly a very fascinating sight. "It's not intentional, I promise you," she muttered.

"Oh, well that's good to hear!" Her mother bit, eyes flashing. "How long do you intend to keep this up? Serena..." her features softened slightly, "you can't stay here forever. You have to get into a good college and have a nice future..."

Usagi sighed. Yeah sure, future. Most likely however, despite her mother's optimistic expectations, Usagi didn't think she'd live past sixteen. No, Usagi figured she'd most definitely have been torched/drowned/blown up by a youma at some point before then.

But, all in a day's work, eh? 'I'll probably trip over my own boots and squash the crystal or throw my tiara at the princess by accident,' she grumbled in her mind, 'then Earth will be doomed and Beryl will set up her carnival of happy fun in which the mortals obey her every command or are burned at the stake.'

Such a wonderful world they lived in.

"Mom, it's not fair!" She said before she could stop herself.

Her mother frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Er—nothing, can I go to the mall?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Serena...WHAT WERE WE JUST DISCUSSING?"

Oh yeah... "Sorry, and sorry about that too." She balanced on one leg and marveled at the temper level her mother displayed that was the equivalent of a level twelve earthquake. "So can I go?"

Usagi seriously thought for two seconds—and her eyes widened as this thought processed—that her mother was going to hit her. The nerve vein above her eye twitched with an unhealthy convulsion that would most certainly lead to stress complications as the Mrs. grew older. Then, with a great sigh, her mother lowered the rolling pin she'd been using to bake cookies and closed her eyes.

"Yes, go." Her mother said, still marveling at the fact that even while death was staring her down, Serena could still let her eyes glaze over and bounce on one leg.

"YAY!" Serena exclaimed, and ran upstairs to grab her purse—the blue one with the bunny—and grabbed her spare set of keys in case her mom (or Sammy, that stupid brat) locked her out again in a repentance for letting her enjoy her day despite the revolting grade she'd received. Coming back downstairs, she saw her mother in the exact same position she'd left her, with the exception that she was holding the now-famous test grade in her hands. The long dark hair with the unusual color Usagi hadn't inherited pooled over the woman's shoulders as she raised her eyes as her daughter walked into the kitchen.

The face stared at her with an expression of absolute wonder. "Why?" She asked.

Usagi blinked back blankly...something Luna, as she stretched from her perch on the stool next to the stove, smirked upon as a reflection of her charge's personality.

'Has Mom gone mental?' She wondered. "Why what? The meaning of life? Cos I don't know." She waited; hand on the door knob to leave.

"Why am I letting you go again?" Her mother asked. "You won't study when you come back home; you'll just plop in front of the t.v. or talk on the phone."

"Uh, didn't you when you were a kid?"

Her mother chose not to answer that question. "On the other hand, if I don't let you go, then you will simply still not study and plop in front of the TV or talk on the phone."

Usagi smiled as she opened the door. "This way you are forcing me to partake in many activities Mom! I'm multi...mutly..."

"Multi-tasking."

Luna tried not to slap her furry face...must act like a normal cat...

"Yeah, that!" Beaming, she called cheerfully her goodbye as she walked out, grabbing her cell phone to tell Naru she had successfully convinced her mother to let her go to the mall, so be quick and meet me in five!

Back in the house, Mrs. Tsikuno stared at the front door her...offspring...had just departed from. "Sometimes her father wonders if we accidentally took the wrong baby home," she muttered, staring at the cat with the odd bald spot they had spontaneously adopted.

'Don't worry,' Luna thought as the woman shook her head and went back to rolling dough; the black feline thought of back when she had "found" the destined moon champion, 'It's times like these I ponder the exact same thing.'

It was possible for her senses have been wrong, right?

* * *

"Sailor Moon, are you all right?" Mercury asked timidly as her friend froze. Normally she wouldn't have noticed the blonde's strange behavior (after all, a normal Serena was quite odd too), but it was something off about tonight that she couldn't shake.

The attack itself had been weird and had not followed the usual pattern. Zoycite, instead of harnessing the crystal carrier's power and letting them do the work, she had split in half: duplicates. Now they weren't sure who was the real carrier and who wasn't—and Jupiter's patience was running thin. Several times she'd grunted that they should just blow both of them up.

Mercury knew it was getting bad when she herself began to agree with the violent scout.

The blue-haired senshi was currently trying to run a scan on the creatures—without being killed in the process. Not as easy as Haruna's math exam. Mercury wondered what her percentage result had been on that anyway...

"MERCURY HEADS UP!"

She dove out of the way just in time—she felt the heat of its claws making a swipe as it went by her face—and her mini-computer disappeared in her loss of concentration.

"Oh I'm just peachy," the blond leader growled suddenly.

Was it just Mercury, or had Moon shaken her head...had she imagined that look on her face?

The girl in question sent a withering look at the twin monsters. "I WAS _SHOPPING_ YOU KNOW!"

Jupiter bit back a laugh.

Mars rolled her eyes so far they almost retreated back into her head. Here it comes...

"HOW DARE YOU RUIN AN INNOCENT GIRL'S HAPPY TIME? I STAND FOR LOVE, PEACE, AND SALES, AND IN THE NAME OF THE MOON—YOU'RE PUNISHED BUSTER!" Sailor Moon was smiling to herself proudly and everyone—through their sweat drops—saw the little thought bubble going through her head: 'Oh my god, I love this part!'

The demons laughed and made an attempt to charge right at the dim-brained scout. Said girl's bravado evaporated immediately and shrieked and flailed around like a headless chicken.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Jupiter roared. Her hands cackled with energy. "JUPITER THUNDER CRASH!" The green light buzzed and dove for the enemy, hitting them in the side and shoving them into a nearby tree...across the street.

Mercury sighed. Mortals weren't supposed to realize there was an intergalactic battle going on...this would be hard to explain...

"Show off," Mars muttered, but there was a smile on her face.

Jupiter flexed her muscles smugly.

For a moment, there was no movement from the odd creatures. Nah...can't be dead, that was too easy...Yes, there was movement, and the left figure (that had hit the tree second) twitched unnaturally. Then it faded away.

"That was the duplicate!" Mars said, her eyes narrowing. They were all panting from dashing too and fro and casting their powers...the energy it took to keep the duplicate had obviously worn off so...

"HIIIAAAAA!" The three remaining scouts turned in alarm at the ear-splitting screech...they barely felt a large shape brush past them.

Sailor Moon barely dove out of the way in time as the youma bared its teeth and threw a large ball of energy. The blast erupted in the street.

She scrambled up, keeping her eyes on the opponent...but still checking her hair with her hands to make sure it was still all right....yes...good. 'I doubt anyone appreciates how long it takes to keep this style!' She growled to herself, angry now. "DO YOU FREAKS REALIZE HOW LATE IT IS? I MEAN COME ON; I HAVE HOMEWORK TO STILL DO!"

The beast didn't seem to hear or understand her, proving to Moon that homework was of little importance in the real world (PROOF!). But Ms. Haruna would obviously have a different opinion than the forces of evil, so now it was time to get serious. Rolling her eyes, she pulled out the magical scepter of kind healing...the wand...thingy.

"Now here's where you stand there dumbly and get totally distracted by the shiny sparkles! MOON HEALING ACTIVATION!"

There was a flash...but the monster was still there.

Huh?

...stupid thing probably needed new batteries. Moon shook it furiously, cursing Luna and her odd tools THAT ONLY WORK FOR CERTAIN PURPOSES AND NEVER WHEN SHE WANTED THEM TO!

The monster smiled at her, obviously noticing it wasn't gone yet either—and very happy about it.

"Um, hi?" Sailor Moon tried.

Then she noticed the fireball of energy crackling in its fingertips.

"Oh..." she said, eyes widening as it emitted. She closed her eyes as the scouts shouted somewhere around her. She felt the heat...

But it went by and suddenly the night air was in her face.

"I always like the intro-speech," a deep voice whispered in her ear.

Crap—she knew she should have worn makeup but noooo, Luna always has to set the rules...sure enough, when she looked up she saw the most gorgeous face she had ever seen in her entire life.

"Tuxedo Kamen!" He liked her speeches?! About time someone did, it was hard to think of such witty things in death situations!

"Was it just me, or did your wand malfunction?"

She stared down at it, thinking, while her masked man continued to dodge—buying them all time. Actually, for some reason tonight she wasn't bothered by the fact that he could dodge and still she was so comfortable in his arms...

Focus. Focus. She stared hard at her wand. Luna had given it to her so they wouldn't have to harm the civilians who were under the possession of the youma, a form of their alternate dimensions. She remembered Mercury's computer read-out. Wait...

"Drop me off," she muttered. She waved at Mars, and pointed to Mercury. The raven understood and soon she and Jupiter were throwing energy diversions.

"Aye aye, captain," he said, plopping her right next to the computer scout.

"Mercury, how did you know that the one that faded out was the fake duplicate?"

She blinked in surprise at the suddenness of her leader popping out of nowhere. "It takes the monster energy to create a duplicate, and Zoycite is only so generous with her supply. When Jupiter attacked, it took energy to block the majority of Jupiter's attack, and deflect the blow of hitting the ground and tree." Sailor Mercury frowned as she saw Moon staring at the tree base, and then to the sky. Was she listening? "If it wanted to keep attacking at a sufficient rate to win, it had to delete the duplicate."

"But your read-out never actually said any that right?"

She frowned some more was it her or had Moon's posture gone rigid again, "No, I didn't have the chance—OH." Suddenly she understood why the wand hadn't worked. The civilian hadn't been released from the youma because the youma everyone was currently fighting was the duplicate.

"It's a puppet," the blond girl said quietly, had her voice changed? It sounded more confident somehow...her head was bent at an angle where the bangs covered her eyes. "And there's a puppeteer hiding somewhere. That's why I wasn't able to heal it..." Mercury followed her gaze at one spot in the forest, her mind already working out what they wanted to do.

Without warning, the spot they had been staring at exploded. The real youma appeared above the blast and leapt at Mercury. But Mercury was the cleverest scout of them all, and they monster blinked in confusion: it was suddenly surrounded by fog. It could sense its duplicate...but the copy's energy was fading...soon it would have to pull that back...

It lunged at random, it's eyes glowing with power as it swiped at Sailor Moon's chest...

And blinked in confusion. Turning its ugly head, the creature saw the scout was still standing...but she must have moved...and there had been no scream of a silly girl...

Up above a cloud covered the moon, and the murky light that had bathed them with its presence vanished.

Sailor Moon turned.

And then she smiled...through fangs?

The demon felt a chill of fear spread over her body as if a bucket of ice had been dropped over her head.

Suddenly there was a spiking pain all along her spine; the creature's eyes bulged as it gasped for air.

There was a collective gasp as the scouts stared at their leaded in shock...Sailor Moon had slammed the youma to the ground, her first around her throat.

"Sailor...Moon?" Mercury asked softly.

But the blond scout didn't seem to hear her. She tightened and flexed her hold on the withering body struggling to breathe.

The one emotional, pathetic face of the child was now psychotically sadistic; the youma squinted in confusion...and dread, when she saw what was being decided in those eyes. It choked again as it felt knives suddenly spiking into its neck. The demon clawed furiously...and then noticed the spray of green liquid.

It was bleeding.

Sailor Moon stared down as the creature gasped and choked, and then drove her knee into its stomach. A howl gurgled from its bleeding throat as it flowed down the slashed neck.

"Never," the scout growled, digging her knee deeper. "Ever," she ignored as the body convulsed and lurched upwards violently. "Infuriate me like this again."

The eyes of it were now hazy, the circulation would soon result in unconsciousness, but she was not going to let it go that far. Disregarding the bug eyes of her teammates, Sailor Moon slowly let go of the youma and stood up. The demon choked on its own tonsils and flesh as it stared in horror at the figure before, calculating its chance of escape. Twisting in the way no body should be able to contort, it screamed in pain as golden light enveloped it.

"I can't have you run away now can I?" The woman seemed to purr, her hand still in the follow-through position after throwing the tiara. She drew out the wand: "MOON HEALING ACTIVATION!"

The youma's scream was cut off as the healing aura took over, driving the evil out through the very pours of its own ugly, gouging skin. The young man who had been possessed replaced the animal-like cry and collapsed—exhausted from his energy being used for darkness.

Mercury rushed to the fallen man's side, gently shaking him awake.

"Huh?" The man blinked, obviously confused as to how he had wound up at the intersection of Dussel and Talmadge...when his last conscious thought had been that he needed to use the restroom...

"Sir?" Mars asked kindly. Jupiter offered a hand.

He took it and blinked. "Where am I? Who are you?" His gaze caught a figure a few feet away that was not joining the group. His eyes widened in recognition. "You!" He cried. "You're Sailor Moon!"

"Don't mind us...we're nobody..." Mars muttered under her breath.

Mercury patted her on the back, sweat dropping sadly.

The man continued to stare at her, transfixed at the hero of their city.

She met his gaze. After a moment she turned and began to walk away.

"Hey, where are you going?" Jupiter reached out to grab her arm.

Her friend and leader shook her off. "I'm not in the mood." She said curtly.

"What's that—"

"I mean it, Sailor Jupiter."

Her looked shocked the thunder scout. Moon continued to walk off. Her breath was ragged, pained as though she had run for ten miles.

'Almost to the corner,' she promised herself, clutching her side and wincing. She had to make it at least there before—

Just as she touched the edge, her vision dizzied as the cloud drifted farther and farther away from the moon...and when she looked up and saw it completely...

_She..._

_Stepped..._

_Over and..._

"EUAAAH!" Sailor Moon dove...straight into the wall. Rubbing her hair and seeing stars, her eyes darted back and forth. What the heck? "Where'd the fire go?" She asked aloud.

She stared at the street sign: "Talmadge and Monroe."

"What the hell?" She remembered running...and...oh crap, had she run away from the fight again? Hanging her head in shame at the recollection in the after events of that (Rei was just really scary like that) incident, she started to backtrack...then realized she didn't remember where the fight had been.

Uhoh...she focused...but it was like water slipping through her fingers...tree? Or had that been the one the night before...yawning, she realized she didn't care...and she had the wand in her hands so it must have been all right. 'It's not like they can't do it themselves,' she thought to herself. Yeah, why did it always have to be her that had to do the light show? 'I'm sure if the fight wasn't over Mars would have hauled my butt back there anyway,' she thought darkly.

Ooh...pop. The machine called to her like a round of operatic angels. She stared at the machine, deactivated her costume...stuff and dug in her pocket for the five leftover from earlier. 'Nothing like a good solid reward for all my hard work!' She thought happily as she punched the icon for her favorite flavor: grape. She grabbed the soda, picked up her bag and started to walk away.

"Forgot something, Blondie?"

Usagi's foot stopped in mid-step. "No way," she muttered, "It not possible..." Turning, she prayed no no no no no no no no...

"Do you stalk people or something?!" She screamed as she faced Darien.

He smiled easily. "No, just you."

"WHY?!" She cried. She really wanted to know why this creep like to get under her skin and not somebody who really deserved it...like Rei...oh that girl needs someone to beat her at something for once...

"Cos you're special."

Serena felt her eye twitch. See? Her eye doesn't normally twitch, but Darien brings it out.

And eye twitching isn't healthy.

She jumped when she realized he was less than a foot away from her. "Ahh! Go away!" She said, narrowing her eyes.

"Hey," he said, smiling, as he reached for her hand.

What?

He held it for a moment, and Serena stopped breathing as he stepped towards her again, bringing her hand close to his chest.

"You forgot something, Blondie," he said...Usagi wasn't really paying attention. His hands were warm and his eyes were so...so... She still felt the warmth in her fingertips as he pulled his hand away, and she opened to palm to see several bills and coins.

She stared at him questioningly. "What's this?"

He cocked his eyebrow at her, grinning. "Stupid Odango Atama: you forgot your change."

Okay, this guy really knew how to shatter a moment of hotness...whew girl...stop that eye twitch again. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" She screeched.

He only laughed in response, and Serena refused to let her cheeks pink this time.

"What are you doing this late out anyway?" She demanded, shoving the change into her purse and waving her fist at him as soon as her right hand was free.

"I should be asking you the same question," he said coolly. "Now quiet up, Blondie, or you'll wake the entire community."

"Get off my back!" She glared.

"Fine." He said, "Don't expect me to watch out for you and your oblivious ways the next time you're out late at night. Odango, you realize you're in the perfect position to be raped or killed?" He paused for a moment, then blinked. "And maybe not even in that order."

"You're going to rape me?!" She cried. "Oh my God, I knew you there was a reason you're so creepy and—"

She was interrupted by his laughter again. "You crack me up, Blondie." His smile revealed perfect teeth...damn.

"Get lost!"

He actually had the gall to bow. "At once per to your request my lady," he said before turning to leave. Serena couldn't have been happier...creep...what a waste of a good night, she ran her left hand's fingers through her hair...

Then she noticed that was supposed to be the hand to hold her soda. It was gone.

And she knew EXACTLY where it went! That...jerk...using his masculine wills to steal her well-deserved reward...

1...2...Luna always said to count to ten when angry, claiming she did it with Usagi all the time...2...2..."THIS IS WAR!" Usagi screamed after his retreating figure.

He stopped and turned, and for a minute she thought this might have hurt the creep's feelings...for some bizarre reason. But then...he smiled. The jerk had the gall to open the pop can single handedly and take a swig—and STILL managed to keep grinning. He looked upwards towards the sky, a thoughtful expression on his face. Then his eyes met hers.

Again it was a damned shame this guy was pure evil.

"DID YOU HEAR ME YOU MORON?" She seethed. "I SAID THIS IS WAR AND I AM NOT HOLDING BACK ANY LONGER!"

If possible, Darien's grin became even wider. "Good," he said happily, "Because I make good war." He lifted the grape soda as if in toast to her and then walked off on his merry way.

A bloodthirsty scream pitched the night.

Luna rolled over off the couch and placed her paws over her ears. 'Stupid girl,' she muttered in her sleep, 'Small wonder the Negaverse wants her dead...'


End file.
